Thorns
by Exist
Summary: The 36th Hunger Games is taking place. District 12 has never had a victor before. How an earth are you supposed to survive with no mentor?
1. Reaping Day

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. I only own the characters in this fanfiction.

Authors notes: This is something I was experimenting with. I started posting it up on the 'hungergamestrilogy' forums but it's probably easier to have it up here. xP I'm not too confident with the writing style yet but I'll improve.

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Even though I know I can't avoid the depressing atmosphere I feel as I wake up, I still squeeze my eyes shut and burrow back beneath my sheets. There are no words that can describe the air that fills the room. Looking past the musty, bitter coal stink that grinds gravel through your airways, there's something else infecting District 12 today. The broken rubble of the rebellion is crashing down on us all today; more so than usual. On top of the crumbling remains is the Capitol; just waiting for a little entertainment. It's a constant reminder that we aren't human to them and that they're the ones that control us. That will never change.

It's reaping day.

"Acacia!" I snort out of disapproval when I hear my mother howl my name at me. It's a small house so there's no need for her to screech so loudly. She repeats the call, emphasising each syllable. She only ever does that when she's distressed.  
"ACK-AY-SEE-UH."

Irritated, I sit up for just a moment and draw in a huge gulp of the dusty air.  
"MUTH-ER." I sarcastically throw the two parts of the word into the room. If she continues like this, the entire district will hear her.

I know it's cruel of me to be so grumpy. After all, today is the day where the lives of her four children will be risked. Three sons; Leon, Reuben and Vesper. One daughter; me. All of us are old enough to qualify for the games.

I think it's only guilt that gives me the strength to stand up and make my way over to the smallish mirror that's attached to the wall. Other than myself, the bedroom is empty. All of us share the room and so it's a little crowded most of the time. The biggest bed in the room is my parent's bed with its rickety metal frame. Despite it looking a little pathetic, the sheets are clean and are a pale blue colour. Pushed against one of the walls is another single bed, though my brother's Leon and Reuben are unfortunate enough to have to share it. It is not unlike my parent's bed. In the corner, only two feet apart are two other beds. The one pushed right into the corner is mine, the other that stands close by is Vesper's.

It's not really the most cheerful of places in Panem although my parents have really tried. They saved up enough money to paint the walls a cream colour. Over the years this has become scuffed and stained so that now it's just a big splotchy mess. The floorboards are splintered, bare and worn and between us all, we only have one chest of drawers to store our clothes in.

I glare at my reflection in the smeary mirror. I wouldn't say I'm the prettiest creature in the district. I'm far from it with my bone thin face and dull blue eyes. My hair is a muddy brown colour and it drapes around my face. I tear through the tangled strands with a hairbrush and try to tame it. Smiling would probably improve my appearance significantly. But I have nothing to smile about here. Some people would say that a soft sad and tearful look upon my face would be a large improvement over the cold, heartless stare. That's stupid. I would rather appear dangerous and unforgiving rather than miserable, vulnerable and pathetic.  
Though as much as I hate to admit it, I am rather fond of my freckles. My face is speckled with the occasional brown fleck. Most people don't notice them and as far as I can tell, the Capitol don't really care for them much themselves. Except for the one time when it was fashionable to have them. But even then, their 'fashionable freckles' were sparkling gemlike splashes of colour on their skin. Of course, we don't normally hear much from the Capitol unless it involves the games. I only saw this silly trend because it was around during one of the games from one of the previous years. If you were to ask me how I felt about the fake freckles, I'd have to say that they were absolutely ridiculous.

I give up trying to untangle my hair and I choose to get dressed instead. Pulling on a comfortable pair of black trousers and a dark green t-shirt, I only waste a few seconds checking my overall appearance in the mirror. Satisfied with how I look, though if I wasn't I probably wouldn't have changed anything, I leave the room and enter our kitchen.

They're all crowded around the table, gathered solemnly around a stale loaf of bread. Mother's bottom lip is quivering beneath the sharp bite of her teeth. Her bark coloured hair is scraped back into a messy ponytail, though wisps of it still fall around her face. Troubled pools of brown are glossed in tears. I have seen that expression before. Anything that happens in the next few hours will cause her to cry.

On reaping day, I always step back and take a look at the way each of my family members react. Dad looks up at me and there's a slight twitch from one of the corners of his mouth. I return his implied smile by lighting up my eyes a little. Everybody else is too busy to notice the silent exchange.  
I take after my dad the most if you're talking about personality. However I don't have his long, smooth black hair or his face shape. In fact the only feature we do share is the same shade of blue in our eyes. Even then, his eyes are more of a glinting brightness. He is far more optimistic than I will ever be. We understand each other perfectly but he is definitely a lot more cheerful. Despite this pleasant oulook on life, a thin layer of stubble pricks his tanned chin and dark circles line his eyes. I'm fairly sure that his hair isn't naturally that dark because although it's black, I'm positive that coal dust is settling on his scalp and clinging to the thin strands of hair. Working in the coal mines takes its toll on everybody.

Vesper, my seventeen year old twin brother refuses to sit with the family and is standing next to the table instead. We look nothing alike. You can't even tell that we're twins. He's a replica of my dad with the same bolt blue eyes and smouldering dark hair. However my brother is stubborn and he refuses to let mother cut his hair. Instead it's grown to the point where he's always shaking it out of his eyes. Today he doesn't even bother to brush the hair from his face. I think he's hiding from the rest of the world. I have no doubt that his brow his furrowed into a frown behind that fringe.

Reuben on the other hand is always being mistaken as my twin brother even though you can tell that I'm seventeen and he's fourteen. His dark brown hair has been cut so it's short enough not to get in the way but long enough to frame his face a little. His eyes are the same blue as mine but his facial expressions are always so full of life. This means that his eyes are as beautiful as my father's. He's propping his head up with his hands with his elbows resting on the oak surface of the table. If I focus my eyes on him, I can tell that he's trembling ever so slightly. The blank expression on his face makes him appear almost normal. But not to us. Reuben's face always has some sort of expression upon it. He might as well be a statue today.

Surprisingly, Leon is acting as if this were any other day. This wouldn't be so odd if Leon wasn't a twelve year old boy who was going to go through his first reaping. I could shrug the questions away but I know for a fact that Leon scampers away whimpering as if he were a wounded animal at the first sign of danger. His ebony hair is starting to look a little like Vesper's what with it beginning to creep down his forehead. If he doesn't have it cut soon, he'll be constantly swiping at it just to get it out of his way. His gentle russet eyes are shining as he reaches for the bread and slices at it with the blunt bread knife. A barely audible hum is coming from his throat.

"You're cheerful today." I point out. It's annoying me how he's so calm. Why should he be relaxed when everybody else in district 12 is tense and nervous? I consider the possibility of him forgetting what happens today but I know in my heart that forgetting something like this is impossible. The Capitol make sure of that.  
"Why shouldn't I be?" he asks, pausing and looking up with innocent eyes.

For a few seconds, we keep eye contact. I decide that I shall try to break his spirit. I can be spiteful like that.  
"Well, your name could be pulled out of that glass orb." Mother is now staring past us all, though we are all aware that she is still listening. Her worn hands are gripping the table. Dad looks at me with a warning expression. Reuben and Vesper just watch us all curiously.  
"So what if it is?" he challenges me with a teasing smile. All of a sudden, I want to be in on the joke. Something must be amusing him.  
"Well it's a death sentence. You'll most likely die a horrible death." I point out and I can almost hear the wood of the table groan in protest as mother clutches onto it with an even firmer grip. Leon puts the knife down on the table and examines everybody's facial expressions before turning back to me.  
"As soon as the gong sounds, I'm going to run for the nearest knife and stab myself in the heart. That way I won't have to put up with all of the brutal killings the other tributes go through. It will be a quick death." he explains to us all.

Once again, everybody's reactions are different. Mother finally loses it and bursts into tears. Reuben, who is now shaking enough for everybody to notice walks to her side and rests his arm around her shoulders. Vesper's twitching eyes are staring at the table as he tries to mentally leave the scene. Leon is pleased with what he has said and is smiling smugly. Dad raises an eyebrow and exchanges an amused glance with me. We're normally very serious about the reaping but I can't help but be pleased with my little brother's bravery.

A lot of people wouldn't class it as brave but if you give it a second thought sucicide during the hunger games is incredibly brave. Others may argue that it's the easy way out. But there isn't much entertainment in somebody stabbing themselves when there are people all around fighting to the death. No, suicide is definitely rebelling and going against the Capitol.

Dad finally takes control of the situation and he stands by mother's side.  
"That's enough now Acacia, Leon." This single sentence dismisses us. We all walk away without saying a word.

It doesn't matter. Everything has already been said.


	2. Tribute

My parents have the same argument every year on reaping day. Mother always wants to dress us all up in our best clothes like all of the other children. Father on the other hand argues that doing so is like admitting the whole event is a holiday. He tells us all that there's no point wasting our time trying to perfect ourselves when we should look like us. There's no point being somebody we're not. We aren't going to get picked after all. We all know that he's just putting on a brave face. He's just as terrified as mother is.

I am wearing a long, floor length skirt and a dark green blouse. This of course is mother's idea. It's not so bad considering I was wearing the same colours earlier today. As a compromise, all that she has done to my hair is scrape it back into a high ponytail. I still look like myself.

Judging by the loud rumble of a crowd talking, it's time to go to the square. We all join hands as we walk down the dusty, crumbling street. My left hand is being tightly squeezed by Vesper. I'm unsure about whether this is because he's trying to reassure me or because he's frightened. He's far too proud to openly admit his anxiety. Reuben is gripping my fingers fairly tightly as well. I can feel the sticky dampness of his fear on my palms.

We reach the square and mother nearly suffocates us all as she pulls us one by one into her arms. Leon is looking a little less calm than he was this morning. All the colour from his face is missing. His eyes might as well be pebbles and I long for the twinkling muddy puddle brown to return. Father also hugs us all and then we are shepherded into the little fenced pens according to our age groups.

I am grateful that I'm a twin and that I don't have to stand here by myself. Leon is stood among the other twelve year olds and his head is held high. Most of the children huddle together and cling to one another. Reuben has wrapped his arms around himself and the smart shirt he is wearing is now crumpled. I can see his lips moving gently and I know that he is giving himself a quiet pep talk.

I look around at all of the seventeen year olds in my pen. We don't all clutch at one another and wipe at our eyes. We each stand as far as we can from the other people; though the small space doesn't really allow for much distance. We barely talk and those who are speaking are only murmuring.

It would be incorrect to say that the first year is the hardest. You can claim that the more times you do it, the more used to it you are but that is untrue. This sort of fear will never die. No, if anything it escalates as the chances of your name being pulled out of the orb increase year after year. Vesper and I both sign up for tesserae. We have a pretty good chance of being picked out. The only reason the older children seem more calm is because we're more mature. We cope differently to everybody else. The crowd is certainly a good example of this with the younger ones freaking out at the back and the eldest solemnly waiting at the front.

Vesper is examining the surroundings curiously. He's dressed in a black shirt and dark green trousers. Normally I would protest about us matching but today I let it slide. The alternation of colours between us calms me somehow. We're a pair. We'll pull through this together.

"Acacia, good luck. I know how disappointed you were when you didn't get picked last year." he announces sarcastically. I tilt my head to the side and feel my ponytail gently brush against the back of my neck.  
"I made sure to apply for tesserae especially. That way I'm sure to be picked." I joke along with him. Sometimes it's the only way to get through the time that passes between us arriving in the square and announcement of the names. The woman that picks the names always treats the reaping as if it were some honour to be thrown to your death. It's almost as if she believes that we want to be picked for this.  
"On the brightside, a few people in the district and the baker have put money together. There's going to be cake at the after party." Somebody joins into our conversation. We turn around to see my best friend, Cerys.

I envy Cerys. Her family earns just as little as my family does but she's an only child. There are less mouths to feed and so she doesn't need to sign up for tesserae. Today she is wearing a pale pink floor length dress with a bow laced up at the back. I have always wanted her long curly blonde hair which she has let cascade down her shoulders. Large, green eyes blink at me as she presses her lips together. Vesper stares at her with his mouth open. At last he swallows and speaks.  
"You make me feel ugly."

The serious and depressed tone he says it in makes us splutter with laughter. It feels as if somebody has smashed through glass windows and rescued us. It's a relief to actually laugh instead of pretending we're amused by the conversation.

We're interrupted by the cough of the mayor who has managed to drag himself to the podium. He's ancient and age is hitting him hard. My spine aches just staring at the way his back is arched. Deep wrinkles are carved into his skin and whiskery white hair clings to his head.

He begins to mumble the story of Panem, the details about the Dark Days and the rules of The Hunger Games. He stumbles over the words a few times and trails off into sentences that are nonsense. Some people from the Capitol are here with the camera men and they exchange glances. He won't be around to deliver this speech next year.

At last the story comes to a close and he wobbles on the stage as he tries to remember what he's supposed to be doing.  
"Unfortunately, out of the thirty-five games we have taken part in, there have been no victors." he reminds us all. This statement draws a big groan and a mumble from the crowd. A few of the families from around the edge of the square wail as they remember their lost children.

The mayor clears his throat again and tries to keep order.  
"Now on to Ro...No... Ro-gnome..." he continues. We all stare up at him earnestly.  
"Rowan Corax." snaps the woman that had been sat behind him. She is now standing next to him. He mumbles an agreement and stumbles back to his own chair in shame.

Rowan Corax, who is the woman from the Capitol that draws the tributes out of the bowl, is wearing a dark grey suit. Her black hair falls down to her waist in perfect curtains and each dark eyebrow is plucked carefully into place. Dark, blood red lipstick is smothered on her lips and a smile brimming with joy is erupting from her face. Yet the emotion doesn't touch her cold, grey eyes.

"Good afternoon District 12. As I'm sure you're all aware, today we'll be choosing the tributes for this year's annual Hunger Games." she speaks for a while with her clear voice and strange accent. I twitch slightly as I try to remain calm.  
Vesper reaches for my hand and I'm unsure who he's trying to calm down. Me or himself? I don't think it really does much for either of us. I hold Cerys' hand and we close our eyes and take in deep breathes. I haven't been paying attention to what Rowan has been saying but now she's crossing over to the glass balls with a large grin on her face.

"Good luck girls!" she chimes as her clawed nails dive into the bowl of slips. I watch her stir them around and for a moment, I'm sure that she is going to throw them up in the air as if they were confetti. She wiggles her fingers and draws her hand back out of the bowl with a smile. Pinched between the nails of her thumb and her index finger is a tiny slip of paper. Somebody's entire future is written on that piece of paper.

We all inhale a large portion of the air and everybody that wasn't already holding hands does so now. The boys are just as nervous as the girls are.  
"Just think girls, it could be you! I bet you're all excited." I want to strangle her because of her ignorance.

She's unfolding the paper and I can feel Cerys' nails cutting into my flesh as she clings to my hand. It's as if I'm the only thing that's tying her down to Earth. Nobody is breathing and the crowd is so quiet, the silence almost hurts. There isn't even the sound of people scuffling their feet or clearing their throats echoing numbly around us.

Rowan unfolds the paper with another patronising smile on her face. She's staring out at us all eagerly.  
"Now don't be disappointed if it isn't you. There's always next year."  
I can almost feel the anger burning in everybody's chests. There is a mutual hatred for the woman from the Capitol.

"Congratulations..." she pauses and looks down at the slip of paper to read the name...

"...Acacia Ferox!"


	3. Goodbye

I'd say that the amount of schoolwork I have right now is limiting spare time but that wouldn't be an excuse for this chapter because this has been posted on hungergamestrilogy forums for ages now. :P I've been working on the next chapter.

Thank you so much Rue Her Death and Amaranthyne for the reviews. :) They were really good to read and a couple of the comments are really useful to me.

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I faintly remember the name that Rowan calls out but a face doesn't come to mind. I'm pretty sure time has stopped. The grip Vesper and Cerys have on my hands doesn't increase or lessen. Everybody in the district releases the air they had captured in their lungs in two different forms. Some cry out in distress but most are sighing out of relief.

Then I recognise the name. It's me.

"Come on Acacia! Isn't it your lucky day? Lets see who you are!" Rowan is shouting into the audience now, her beady eyes trying to pinpoint the person everybody is staring at.

Vesper and Cerys both let go and turn to me.  
"Breath." Vesper orders and I realise that I still haven't let the air I'm holding captive escape. But I don't know how to. How do I breath after hearing my name being called out on reaping day? Every year it had been a sigh of relief. I can't do that now. I feel Vesper and Cerys' hands on my shoulders and I finally breath out with a shuddering, angry sounding sigh.

I take my eyes off of the ground and make my way over to the stage while trying to look as confident as possible. I'm so nervous that I completely forgot to go to the side of the stage where the stairs are. The metal edge to the platform is level with my eyes so I have to tilt my head a lot to make eye contact with Rowan. She raises an eyebrow at me.

I jump up and grab the edge of the stage, pushing myself up and twisting my body around so that I am sat on the metal surface with my legs dangling. I force myself backwards and stand up to face the entire of district 12. I'm grateful that I'm good at climbing. Perhaps I will gain a few sponsers for showing a little potential. However it will also be a disadvantage if my opponents notice it. It doesn't matter. The action was small and forgettable.

Rowan has her arm around me now and she looks back out into the crowd. Hundreds of faces devoid of any emotion stare out at me. I see Vesper's eyes connecting to mine from behind his fringe. Cerys has her fists clenched. My eyes drift over to Reuben and I can tell that he's terrified. At last I spot mother and father. Mother's face is leaking into a big red splotchy mess and father weakly attempts to hold her up. Finally it hits me. I'm going to die.

"Would anybody like to volunteer?" Rowan coos at the crowd. Absolute silence. Even mother holds her breath as she hopes I might be spared. I can see Vesper twitching in place and I realise that if he were female and was allowed to volunteer, he would. Perhaps we are closer than I assumed we were.

"No? Well in that case, it's time to pick the male tribute!" Rowan's arm slides off of my shoulder and she trots over to the other glass bowl in her black high heels. She plunges her hand in and rakes through the paper.

My eyes wander over the crowd and at last I spot Leon right at the back with the other twelve year olds. He's staring right at me and his eyes light up when he realises I've spotted him. He mimes stabbing himself in the heart and he pretends to fall backwards with his eyes rolling up and his tongue sticking out. It's hard not to laugh just a little and I have to cover my mouth and disguise my amusement with a cough.

I'm frightened but I can't show it because if I do, I'll look like an easy target. It's better to be stood up here hiding a smile and looking as if this is just one big joke to me. My mind flickers over to the previous years where I've watched tributes burst into tears on the stage. I don't feel like crying. My eyes are dry and I don't think I could even force myself to shed a tear. Perhaps it's because none of this feels real.  
Rowan is holding a slip of paper up to her face now and I realise that the male tribute's name is written on it. All of a sudden, I begin to panic for my brothers. How could anybody kill Reuben? Or Leon? I bite into my lip and look down at Vesper again. He's holding on to Cerys and I notice that she's crying a little. He's concentrating on Rowan. The Capitol would love to watch two twins up against one another in the arena.

"Can we have a round of applause for our male tribute; Kane Colten!" Rowan cries and everybody obeys with unenthusiastic clapping. I look down at the group of children and I try to work out who Kane Colten is. I'm glad it's not one of my brothers but I still don't feel relieved. This person is most likely going to die. And even then, I feel worse than I would if it had been somebody else. The name sounds familiar but I can't put a face to it.

The boy is stumbling over to the stage steps. Rowan holds her arms out to welcome him as he tries not to fall over. For one moment I think that she is going to hug him but she just ends up putting her arm around his shoulders in the same way she did to me.

Now that he's closer, I feel dread rush through me. Not only is this boy in the same class as me at school, he's Vesper's best friend. I can tell that he's scared by the way his brown eyes quiver. As he gulps and looks out at everyone, he rakes his dark reddish brown fringe out of his eyes in the same way that Vesper does. It's not just a nightmare. This is all real to him.

Then panic rips through me as I spot Vesper again. He's no longer holding Cerys and has instead taken a few steps ahead. Their hands are still connected but he is trying to tug himself free. With his mouth hanging open and eyes wide with horror; I can tell exactly what he's thinking. The idea of losing us both seems to crush him. He wants to volunteer.

I shake my head slightly and try to mouth "no" at him without the audience noticing. My attempts go unnoticed by him because he's staring at Kane. Volunteers are being asked for now and I have to try and remain calm. Cerys is trying to pull him back and is hissing something at him under her breath.

Rowan looks out at the crowd hopefully.  
"No volunteers?" Vesper looks pained and glances at both Kane and myself before he throws the thought away. Cerys guides him back by her side and looks up at me. With a sad smile, she nods her head. He's safe.

District 12 are forced to clap again and I don't even have to attempt to keep all emotion from my face. My skin is just a tingling numbness underneath my clothes. I'm unsure about how I'm supposed to react to the applause so I just stare past them all. I don't cry often and I struggle as I try to remember the last time I did.

It was probably about three years ago when the wooden chair that Vesper had been sitting on fell to pieces and threw him to the ground. The look on his face as he rolled around on the floor and tried to remove splinters from his rear had made me laugh so much that my eyes had watered. Did that count?

I feel a small amused smile creep across my face as I remember the incident. I don't try to hide it because I believe it will make me stand out from the other tributes. I snap out of my little daydream when I hear the mayor finish talking about the Treaty of Treason and he turns to us both. Kane steps forward with his hand stretched outwards. We shake hands and he gives me a wistful smile. His skin is all clammy and I try not to make it obvious that I'm drying my hands on my skirt.

Panem s anthem plays and I try to make eye contact with some of the people in the district. I ll probably never see any of them again. Looking down on the pitiful expressions everybody is wearing, I wonder if I gave that same look to the previous tributes.

We re pushed towards the doors of the Justice building by Peacemakers and I find myself being shoved into a beautiful room.

It s hard to imagine that deep inside the starving poverty of District 12 is this expensively furnished room. Deep, blood red walls are surrounding the thick cream coloured carpet. I sit on the big red sofa and I feel myself sinking into a big fluffy heaven. It s almost impossible to sit up straight.

I sit there alone for a few moments and then my family bursts through the doors. Mother is wailing some sort of nonsense at me as she falls to pieces and father is leading her to one of the armchairs as he tries to calm her down. It s not reassuring to see her face stream with tears. Leon notices me staring at her and he distracts me by sitting in my lap.

Just don t turn into a monster. Reuben whispers quietly as he falls into the sofa beside me. He gasps as the cushions eat him and he struggles to sit up. His voice is barely audible over mother s crying. They don t believe I ll return.

I then notice that my twin is nowhere to be seen.  
Where s Vesper? Suddenly I m scared that he s volunteered after all.  
He s just seeing Kane. Dad replies as he finally sets mother free. She nearly suffocates me as she grabs me and pulls me into her arms as if I were a baby. Leon staggers as he falls out of my lap.

Mother is half shouting, half screeching something at me but I can t work out what she s saying. Luckily dad seems to understand.  
No dear, you can t say that. He murmurs to her and I realise she s probably talking about my death.

And yet... I still feel empty.

There isn t really much to say apart from our goodbyes so I just try to comfort mother while Leon and Reuben tell me how much they ll miss me.

Peacemakers march into the room to tell us that I ve had enough time to say goodbye now. Mother clings to me and begs them to let her stay and they have to drag her out. I tell them I love them as they file out of the room with mother being forced out of the door behind them.

Vesper slips into the room next and we just stand facing each other for a few minutes.  
Why did you say goodbye to Kane before me? I ask, feeling a little hurt.  
I wanted to say bye to you without all of the drama from mum. His eyes slip to the ground and a sad smile plays across his lips.

Although we are twins, we are completely different. A lot of people treat us as if we are the same person and that is a big mistake to make. We don t hang out with each other during school but we enjoy each other s company at home. We argue quite a lot so it s easier if we re with Leon and Reuben as well. Arguing is just what siblings do. I still love him as a brother.

You were going to volunteer. I accuse him as I turn to sit on the sofa again. He joins me without a word.  
I considered it. He responds finally as he flips his hair out of his eyes.  
Let mother trim your hair. I add and it s tempting to ruffle his hair. It annoys him when I do.  
You can t force me to. His usual comeback to the demand is fired my way.  
Well it s my dying wish.

The words shock us into silence. This still feels like some kind of dream but I m now vaguely aware that I m not going to live.  
Very well. He chokes quietly. I turn to face him and I m surprised by the silent tears he s trying to hide. The thin sleeves of his shirt soaks the salty liquid up and he pulls himself together.

Listen Acacia, you need to use your eyes, your ears, even your nose. Keep an eye on your competition and make sure you re familiar with their tactics. It s the only way you ve got a chance. He gulps and stares right into my eyes. We share a hug and I realise that he has a shred of hope for me.  
I ll remember. I tell him and then our time is up. I hug him goodbye and he leaves with a grim nod. He stops at the door for a moment and turns back.  
Haircut. I insist and he smiles.  
I love you. I love you too.

Cerys is my next visitor. I can tell from her damp skin and puffy eyes that she has been crying. I wrap my arms around her and I begin to wonder why I m the one making the least amount of drama. For what feels like a lifetime, we just hug. After what must have been five minutes, she lets go. It must have occurred to her that our time together is limited. She slips the pretty bracelet she s wearing off of her wrist and without saying a word, she clasps it onto mine. I don't question her action and just wait for an explanation.

It would mean a lot to me if you wore this in the arena. It will remind you that we re all there with you every step of the way. If you begin to lose your humanity in there, this will remind you who you are. She insists. I smile and hug her once more. I look over her shoulder and down at the delicate piece of jewellery.

The small linked rings of silver fit around my wrist comfortably. Tiny thorn shaped charms that are barely bigger than the chained hoops of the bracelet dangle from the chain. A single rose charm is dotted among them. It's very detailed with thin, curved petals wrapping around each other and a perfectly shaped head. Something beautiful among the ugly danger.

We don't let go of one another and I try to guilt myself into crying at least a little. My best friend is crying over me and I can't even cry with her. At last, the Peacemakers appear again and we are forced to part.  
"Goodbye." we both say at the same time.

If only 'goodbye' said everything that I wanted to say.


End file.
